


Are You From the Holodeck? Because You’re Too Beautiful to be Real

by mythras_fire



Series: Friday Night Chats Plot-Bunny Factory [4]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Dialogue-Only, Domestic Boyfriends, Geek Love, Innuendo, M/M, Star Trek References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 10:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18207302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythras_fire/pseuds/mythras_fire
Summary: "Oh. Right. That. Sure. Ngh. *ahem* Well, uh, Arturo revamped it recently and he asked, um, for people's s-s-suggestions.""Suggestions for what? *kiss*""Hmmm? Oh, uh for nam—*gulp* thinking up names for his new dishes. You know, you're not exactly being helpful right now.""I'm not trying to be helpful. *nibble*""*gasp* Thank you, Captain Obvious."





	Are You From the Holodeck? Because You’re Too Beautiful to be Real

**Author's Note:**

> For bgn. You can thank her, this is all her fault. (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) The fabulous menu items (with the exception of the first two mentioned, which are mine) used in this story come from Chapter 20 of bgn's wonderful tale _In the Company of Aliens_. Thanks for letting me borrow some of your food dish names! <3
> 
> Our little bubble of happiness has floated forward from Ep3 to Ep9 yay! They're cocooned in the caravan again and have no plans to come out anytime soon ♥
> 
> Disclaimer: All pop-culture references and quotes used belong to their respective creators.

~*~

"You know I'm never letting you go now, right? *kiss* First time was a freebie- we were just two dumb kids in over our heads, clinging to each other in a shitstorm. Second time really hurt, though, *sniffle* to find out that the shitstorm was still hounding us after all these years. So now that the shitstorm has been blown away, there will be no more takebacks, *kiss* not now that I have you back in my arms again."

"Not even to let me get up to take a piss?"

"Ugh, so literal, private, but no, not even then."

"Ok, cowboy, if you say so. I didn't take you for a golden shower kind of guy, but hey, if that's what cranks your motor—"

"Wait, what? A golden show— eww! Gross, go on now, git!"

"Mwahahaha..."

"Kinky bastard."

... *flush* ...

"Ok, where were we?"

"Well, before your bladder so rudely interrupted us, we were having a Hallmark Moment while spooning."

"Oh yeah! With the spooning. Naked spooning is the best. Oooo-kaaaay... I'm ready! Please continue."

"So, as I was saying, *kiss* you're never getting *kiss* away from me now. I'm playing for keeps. I mean it, Alex. I don't think I could watch you walk away from me a third time. *sniffle* I don't think my heart could take it."

"I don't think mine could either *sniffle*... hey, uh, are those, um, tears running down my neck, cowboy? Or are you just drooling on me?"

"I'm not a Vulcan, private. I have emotions, geez."

"Ohmigod, I'm in love with a Trekkie."

"You're shaking your head like that's a bad thing."

"You know, like, two whole Buffy references but you've seen all of the Star Trek episodes, haven't you? I guess that makes sense. Show about space travel and all that jazz."

"Well, all of the TNG ones, yeah, but also a good chunk of DS9 and a smattering of TOS here and there when they were on cuz they're classics."

"I understood, like, none of that."

"Aww, you mean you never watched Star Trek?"

"Uh, not really, no. I had better things to do with my time, like watching—"

"Ohmigod, I'm in love with a Star Wars nerd, aren't I?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

" _Dios mío,_ what will our children say?"

"Our children? As in, our _children_??"

"I love how you think that repeating the same phrase but with emphasis makes it mean something else."

"You don't mean—I can't get—that's not physically possib—our CHILDREN?!?"

"What year is it, 2019? '20, '21, '22... okay, you're fine, we still got at least three years until my next _pon farr,_ so you don't have to worry about losing that nice flat stomach just yet, babe."

"Don't mess with me, cowboy."

"Wouldn't dream of it, private."

"I thought you said you weren't Vulcan, which means you don't have a Mate-or-Die ritual, riiiight?"

"I thought you said you never watched Star Trek, so how would you know if it were mate-or-die?"

"Fuck me, I can't take you anywhere, you're ridiculous."

"Oh, I'm gonna. But first, I want to know how we're supposed to go about this whole getting-to-know-each-other business if we can't even go out on a date. What about the Crashdown?"

"Oh, hell no! Especially not there. Don't you snicker into my neck, cowpoke! That menu has taken on a whole new and terrifying meaning since I found out I love a man whose cosmic origins are lampooned across two pages of laminated paper and a separate gelato dessert card!"

"Mmmm, they have gelato now? *lick* Tasty. We should definitely go there for our first date. *lick* What's new on the menu?"

"How can you be so cavalier about this? They're making—I-I've been making fun of you my whole life!"

"Shh, don't worry about it, private, you didn't know. *kiss* Now, focus. What's new on the menu?"

"N-n-new? Why would you—*gasp* why would you think I'd know the menu that well?"

"Yeah, like you haven't been eating *nibble* there since you were a kid, hanging out with Liz and Maria."

"Oh. Right. That. Sure. Ngh. *ahem* Well, uh, Arturo revamped it recently and he asked, um, for people's s-s-suggestions."

"Suggestions for what? *kiss*"

"Hmmm? Oh, uh for nam—*gulp* thinking up names for his new dishes. You know, you're not exactly being helpful right now."

"I'm not trying to be helpful. *nibble*"

"*gasp* Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"*kiss* You're welcome. What names did you think of?"

"Ummmm... Pon Farr Potato Salad and Man Trap Mint?"

"Says the man who has purportedly never watched Star Trek."

"I didn't say I'd _never_ watched it! These are just two of the things that always stuck with me."

"Mmhmm. Two highly suggestive things. Gee, I wonder why you'd remember _those_ ones. Ow! Watch the ribs, dude."

"Serves you right."

"What did Liz and Maria pick?"

"Liz picked Antimatter Antipasto and Nebula Nachos."

"Sounds like her."

"And Maria was in a bit of a mood, y'know, cuz of everything going on with her mom, so hers were a little on the morbid side."

"Yeah, I can imagine."

"She picked Soylent Green Salad and Venusian Vegan Platter."

"Ugh, yeah, I wouldn't want to cross her path under the full moon. But how is a vegan dish morbid?"

"No dairy products! Cheese is Life, cowboy. Surely, you knew this about me."

"I did not, cross my heart."

"See! this is the kind of stuff I want us to know about each other!"

"Ow! Well, I'm certainly learning that I'm going to be sporting lots of bruises which I'll get to show off to all and sundry. They're like hickies, only bigger and therefore better. What gelato flavors did they pick?"

"You and your cleavage, I swear. Maria chose Cardassian Cookie Dough and Klingon Key Lime."

"I'm sensing an alliteration theme here. Also, two badass Star Trek races. Right on."

"Liz did Android Amaretto and Borg Butter Pecan."

"Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated."

"The who and the what now? Was that supposed to be a robot voice?"

"The Borg's famous phrase! From the episodes where they—and Picard gets—oh nevermind. *lick* I'll just add it to our list of shows to watch in bed. *nibble*"

"Mmmmm..."

"I hypothesize that your genetic makeup contains a percentage of Vulcan DNA."

"What? No, there's no Vulcan in me."

"Would you care to modify that statement?"

~*~


End file.
